“Yep, two!” Isobel confirmed, nodding graciously up and down, accidentally knocking her chin against the upper part of her chest. With that, she clunked one of her mandibles into her eye, and yelped out a short, “Akh!”

“What are your ideas?” Theora asked.

“Well,” Iso said, rubbing her eye with a hand, “First one, obviously, Dema. I bet she could poke a little hole into the bottom of the dam and keep the structure integral with her earth powers. We could ask her if she wants to pay this place a visit.”

Theora stared, unable to process how this hadn’t occurred to her at all.

She’d been completely preoccupied with trying to solve this alone — but she wasn’t alone anymore. Now, she had people whom she could ask for help. Dema could come here, and take care of that dam. Of course she could. She was one of the most powerful [Earth]-affinity mages on the planet.

In fact, that was likely selling it short. 

“The other idea,” Isobel continued, “Would be a bit… experimental? Like… moss is really amazing, you know? It can hold a lot of water, and if I amend it a bit — if I put some extra magical properties on it, perhaps — I could make it a bit similar to a succulent? To store large amounts of water. I mean. If I cultivate and grow the right type of moss in the riverbed, maybe it could retain more water than it can now. Rainwater. Could make it a little swampy.”

Theora glanced over Isobel’s moss-overgrown rock body.

That’s right, she was a [Mossmancer]. A person capable of growing and manipulating moss with magic. Was it really possible? To introduce a new species to this place, to help it bloom again? 

“I have water here,” Isobel said, nodding at the lake, “And I can spend some Credits to buy mana potions from the shop. At the very least, I can grow moss inside the riverbed to keep the valley watered for a few days or weeks. Enough for Dema to find a day to come here. Hopefully, the Darkness Daffodil will be able to recover a little too.”

“Credits? Shop?”

“Yeah?” Iso said with a questioning look. “Like… third tab? Next to achievements?”

Oh… more things related to the System. Now that she thought about it, Theora vaguely remembered that a shop existed, yes. She’d bought it out a long time ago, and probably carried half of that litter in her cloak somewhere.

“Anyway, if you don’t have any objections, I would do that?”

Theora nodded. “Please, if you think it might work, let’s try. Let me know if I can help.”

“You’ve done enough already!” Iso replied, smiling. “Now, it’s my turn! Just—” She gestured at the cliff they stood on, then out at the lake, then to their back at the dark valley — “Just relax and enjoy the view! I’ll need to figure out a strand of moss to use first, too. I’ll try species that are native to this region… I’ve collected some of them already…” 

With that, she trailed off into mumbled thoughts, with a look on her face as if she was skimming through System menus.

Meanwhile, Theora did as told and sat down. Though, instead of looking at the lake or the valley, her eyes stuck to Isobel.

Standing there, barely taller than Theora while sitting, with her wide isopod statue frame, with the little legs on her belly and chest happily cluttering and clacking against each other in the breeze like wind chimes, her mandibles at the corners of her mouth twitching every now and then, her feelers communicating her every mood through little dances.

‘I have, like, at least two ideas!’ she had said.

It’s okay, I got you. Please don’t cry.

Isobel, sworn adversary of the System, with her declared goal to save Dema from a terrible fate. Isobel, who seemed to have an answer to everything — several answers to everything, in fact. A rock at the shore, breaking and holding back the waves of chaos, shielding Theora from their corrosive impact. 

What a beautiful person Theora had helped call back into life.

“I would like to hug you,” she said, and was answered by Iso’s surprised and wide-eyed gaze staring down at her.

“Well, alright then!” she said, laughed, and opened her arms, clacked a few steps over to Theora and embraced her, without even needing to bow down that much to do so.

Theora let out a very soft “ah,” as the rock body hit her much quicker than she’d anticipated, and she closed her arms around Iso’s wide frame, feeling the warmth of her own tea and Dema’s blood pulse through the stone.

“There, there!” Iso said, stroking over Theora’s back as if she was petting an animal. “You really are just like a little rabbit, aren’t you! I can see why she calls you that.”

“Can you now,” Theora murmured, her head pressed against one of Iso’s moss patches.

Iso giggled, and a few strokes later, she broke the hug, patted Theora’s head, and went back to her work. 

She grew one patch of moss after the other, using her Vial of Endless Water to drench it and observe properties, then absorbed less promising results back into herself by gobbling them up through her mouth. More successful results started gathering in front of her over time, until she finally, after about two hours, decided on one that seemed worth trying on a larger scale, and suggested they went back into the valley.

The hike down was much quicker. Iso let herself fall down several large drops with unwavering confidence in the sturdiness of her shale body, and similarly, Theora wasn’t much worried about her descent either, although she still tried not to get herself injured. Fixing herself through force of will was possible, but it also meant effort.

Unfortunately, carefully descending the mountains was effort too, so she opted for a healthy compromise between the two.

Isobel arrived first by a large margin, and began to fill the riverbed with water-drenched moss. It was a curious sight especially from further away — the brown soil brightened and blossomed into lush shades of green within seconds. The revitalising process was quick enough that Isobel could just run down the river, moss-patches growing in her footprints, merging into a green carpet. At the same time, she let bubbles of floating water splash onto the moss.

Unfortunately, Isobel was running ahead way too quickly. Theora had trouble keeping up, so she yelled, “Isobel! Be careful up there!”

The isopod girl simply waved off and eventually vanished down the horizon. 

“She always does this…” Theora murmured, not unkindly. Her gaze wandered over the moss Iso had been planting, or at least what she could make out of it under the night’s sky. It looked so alive.

As Theora entered the pollen-induced darkness again, she kept walking right next to the moss-street, but avoided stepping onto it. Isobel had already covered an amazing distance, just like that… Maybe this really would be enough to water the valley for a day or two. How many mana potions had she drunk by now?

At low levels, they provided a large advantage, especially during fights. Of course, after reaching Dema’s amounts of magical reserves, they barely made a difference.

But, a Level 32 [Mossmancer]? To them, potions were worth their weight in gold.

And Isobel was spending that ‘gold’ to help save this valley, instead of pursuing EXP and becoming stronger. Absolutely no hesitation, either. Running off, gleefully, enjoying herself. Enjoying herself even in this endless and oppressive black—

Theora halted her thought process as she noticed Isobel hadn’t moved on the map in a while.

Why not? The end of the riverbed was still far ahead. Had she found something? Been distracted? Or…

Theora increased her pace. Step by step, each becoming a little longer, carrying her a little further, until she was almost soaring through the air in jumps, staring forward into the all-consuming nothingness, closing in on the marker on the map.

Oh, she’d left Isobel alone in the dark. How had Theora lost her sense of danger? How had she not taken this into account? She’d been sent to protect Isobel, and now—

Each of her strides left a small cloud of dust behind, her weight crashing onto the ground, her feet softly absorbing the impact, then launching her forward again. Her hair flapped against her forehead and cheeks wildly, her cloak danced in the storm caused by her own propulsion.

And finally, she found Isobel.

Or rather, what was left of her. She slid to a halt next to Isopod fossil pieces, and knelt down.

“I got got,” Isobel’s head whined, lying on a bed of moss, next to her foot and a few splinters of her shale carapace. More pieces of Isobel were scattered around in the small sphere of Theora’s vision, glinting in night light.

“You got got,” Theora repeated.

“Yeah!” Isobel grumbled, sounding deeply unhappy. “I thought they wouldn’t go for me! Since we helped… Also… I thought my body might be sturdy enough, after all… never broken before!”

“So, it can break,” Theora murmured, and Isobel somehow managed to nod her head, causing it to roll over the moss. “Shale is a brittle material, after all.”

“Sorry…” she said.

“It’s alright,” Theora replied. “Dema can probably fix you.” At the very least, Theora had seen her put Isobel together from scraps once before. “Let me pick you back up.”

Theora traipsed through the dark, collecting all of Isobel onto a small heap of fossilised shale rock. She made sure to even pick up the smallest pieces, collecting them in a little pocket of her cloak. 

“I won’t be able to finish the moss road like this…” Iso whined. “I messed up!”

Theora patted Isobel’s head. “We can come back tomorrow, if you want. But, I’m sure the valley will be fine until Dema arrives to adjust the dam.”

“Okay…” Iso murmured.

“I’m sorry,” Theora said. “I was supposed to protect you.”

“It’s okay! You even said I should be careful! I was just kinda excited and… didn’t see the prowler coming… just tore me apart. Luckily, it didn’t feel like eating me when it realised I was made of rock.”

“These creatures are strong and stealthy.” Theora started rummaging around in her cloak and picked out a rope. “I’m going to bundle you up, if that’s alright with you.”

“Sure!” Iso said, again rolling a nod, and Theora bound Isobel’s carapace, limbs and other pieces into a compact little package, and stored it away in a large crease of her multilayered travelling coat.

Then, she picked up Isobel’s head — the only thing she’d not added to the bundle — and carried her in front of her chest. “Can you see fine?”

“Yeah!” Iso said. “All good! Thank you.”

It was time to return to the carriage and go home. Theora’s fingers started prickling, caused by self-directed anger. The night was dead-silent. No insects, no birds, no prowlers to be heard. Just Theora’s own footsteps being swallowed by the dark.

The head moved a little, aided by the helmet-like carapace piece that she could still move, and cuddled itself closer into Theora’s arms. “This is really cosy, you know?”

“Is it?”

“Definitely! Being carried through the night, amongst scary monsters that tried to devour me. Ha! Maybe we should have done that from the start!”

“I really don’t think we should have,” Theora muttered.

They made their way forward together, the heavy weight of Isobel’s head safe in Theora’s grasp. It was good that Isobel was immortal. As long as she wasn’t ground into the finest dust, they’d be able to put her back together. She pressed the head closer against herself, hugging her tight.

“Oh, by the way,” Isobel said after a while. “I remembered!”

“You remembered?”

“Yep! The rude name of Dema’s very convoluted favourite book. It popped into my head as I was lying in the grass, all splintered up and falling into desperation.”

Theora gulped. “Desperation? Isobel, are you alright? I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“Nah, it’s okay!” she said. “Well. It feels a little awkward. I can still sense the rest of my body, but it’s all wrong! I feel all jumbled-up! Oh, darn it. I really don’t want this to happen when I’m alone. Good thing you’re here!”

“Good thing I’m here,” Theora replied. She really should have been there earlier, though.

“Well, now that I’m thinking about it, this really does feel weird. You made it so my leg touches a part of my back, in the bundle.”

“I apologise.”

“No,” Isobel said, in curious thought. “I’m just saying, it’s a new kind of feeling. I wonder if it could be therapeutic in some way…”

“I beg you to not get any ideas.”

“Like, when I wash up, Bell sometimes helps me scrub parts of my carapace I can’t get to, and I love that! Feels so relaxing. Imagine all the spots she could reach now!”

“I prefer not to imagine,” Theora murmured.

At that point, she saw a small flicker in the dark. A hint of fur, at the very edge of her vision.

Then, gone.

Theora sighed a small breath of relief. Isobel was safely stored away in her travelling coat now. Isobel was safe. In other words, if one of them decided to attack, Theora wouldn’t have to kill it.

She’d only have to hold Isobel’s head safe and sound.

“Everything’s alright with you, yes?” Theora asked. “Dema’s blood is in your body — you don’t need access to it? You don’t feel dizzy?”

“Nope!” Iso let out. “Can’t say I feel bad at all. Sorry for making you worry.”

“Alright,” Theora said, cradling the head close. “I’m glad you no longer feel despair, lying on the ground, all splintered up. But, I am still curious. You said you remember the name. The name of Dema’s favourite book. The rude one?”

“Oh, yeah!” Isobel shouted, and then giggled. “It’s the theme of the book. Hard to explain, but, as I was staring into the dark, all broken apart, I remembered.” She cheered into the night, “It’s called ‘To Hell with the Author’!”